


Matt Murdock and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good Very-Bad Spy Agency

by Swiggity_swydra_fuck_hydra (Haych_Aych_Ach)



Category: Archer (Cartoon), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Ableism, Canon-Typical Violence, Cheryl's astonishing creepiness, Gen, Sexual Content, Sexual Harassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 18:36:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5302430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haych_Aych_Ach/pseuds/Swiggity_swydra_fuck_hydra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray Gillette decides to sue ISIS for disability discrimination. </p><p>He hires Nelson & Murdock.</p><p>It does not go well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matt Murdock and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good Very-Bad Spy Agency

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: the actions characters take in this story, the things they are into, and how they behave is not a reflection on the author or commenter/reader's own beliefs, interests, morals, personality, etc. Fiction is fiction. What some characters like to do and what they think is right is not necessarily correlating with reality or truth, etc.

The man grunted as he lifted his wheelchair up the stairs to the office. The elevator was broken, as were most in Hell's Kitchen. It was dark and gritty and made Ray feel as if he was in some noir detective novel, about to use some bizarre flowery metaphors for the secretary's tits.

Yeah, nah.

Ray Gillette, sweaty and out-of-breath, arms aching, wheeled his way to the door of Nelson & Murdock, Attorneys at Large, and knocked.

* * *

Matt and Foggy sat, deeply confused, as their latest client ranted about his job.

"And then there was this whole thing where we kinda helped distribute the mutilated corpse of the Prime Minister of goddamn Italy in dumpsters all over the city--"

Karen cuts in. "And, uh, how's that related to your disability discrimination case?"

"Well, it says what sort of person my boss is, who is the same person who has not had the elevator fixed since September and also has not given me any form of field assignment for the last sixth months, docking my pay, as well as making what I've documented is literally over  _two hundred_ instances of homophobic harassment, the terrifying drunken hag."

Foggy and Karen exchanged glances, and then Foggy said to Matt, "We just exchanged glances."

"Well, I suppose if you're willing to pay our rates," Foggy said slowly, turning back to the mildly insane blonde man, "We can help."

"If you manage to pull this off? I will pay  _triple_ and maybe get you some sarin in too. God knows we have enough of it in the vents."

* * *

The first thing Matt notices when he and Foggy step into the offices of ISIS is that there is in fact nerve gas in the vents; it's a terrible smell. The second thing is that everyone is wearing guns. The third thing is the secretary's drawling voice, low and bored. 

"Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii?"

Foggy is saying, "We're Nelson and Murdock, here to speak to a Ms Mallory Archer."

There's a deeply awkward moment where Matt's too busy mapping out the layout (it's very cluttered) to realize what's going on until Foggy says, "She's staring at you creepily."

Then there's a husky kind of squeal and she says, "Oh my  _gawd_ , I love your glasses, where did you get them?"

Matt squints on reflex and says, "I'm blind, that's why I'm wearing them."

"But you're not a train midget, or like a gross hobo. More of a charming, hot, hopefully amoral lawyer guy. So are you  _sure_ you're blind?"

Foggy is shocked speechless. Matt knows from the particular heartbeat-smell-silence combination. It had only happened once before, at a Thanksgiving, when one of Foggy's older uncles had turned to Matt and said that since he was blind, he was going to have to be especially careful not to date "the Japs" since apparently they were like fairies and liked to trick white guys.

Matt also doesn't really have a pre-prepared response, and so comes out with, "Yes. I am sure."

More awkward silence, and then the secretary purrs uncomfortably low in her throat, "Oh, I get it. You're  _bliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiind_."

Foggy manages to pipe in with, "She's, uh, really obnoxiously blinking at you in this fake way."

Matt has absolutely no desire to continue this alarmingly weird conversation anymore, and clears his throat. "Can we speak with Ms Archer now?"

The secretary sighs, presses a few buttons on her phone, and says, "Fake blind guy here to see you!"

And when they both go to walk to the office, the secretary stands up and whispers like some sort of German fairytale monster into Matt's ear, "Cheryl.  _Tunt. **Call me**."_ _  
_

* * *

Ms Archer is not, in fact, saner than Cheryl Tunt, as it turns out.

The first thing she says as they come in is "If this is about the fake bomb threat, I don't want to hear it."

Matt does not respond to that. "We're here representing your employee Ray Gillette--" is all he manages to get out before there's a loud slam of the door open as a man sprints in.

"Mother, did you hear?  _Ray is trying to sue us!_ "

Ms Archer sips her drink--it's a whiskey sour, Matt can taste it on the air--and makes the most disgusted, contemptuous noise of incredulity Matt's ever heard.

Foggy tries to redirect, and serves her the papers. "As you can see, we have an  _extremely_ strong case for creating a hostile work environment, workplace discrimination, violation of contract, and incompliance with the Americans with Disabilities Act, as well as probably a good case for many other charges--assault, murder, manslaughter--but as we're not actually cops, we can't charge you with those."

"We suggest you contact your own legal team," Matt chimes in. 

The new man snorts loudly and says, "Phrasing!"

Everyone turns to look at him except Matt. The man elaborates, chuckling to himself, "You obviously  _can't_ see."

A woman with big guns, lounging on the open door, says, sounding exasperated, " _Ar_ cher--"

Ms Archer chimes in with "Well, if you're all as flowery as Gillette, I suppose we can just excuse that as metaphor."

The guy, Archer apparently, snorts and says, "But, again, you  _can't_ see, or is this a sex thing? Like with the cane."

Matt's eyelid twitches. "I am blind, yes," he says for the second time that day, and tries to elaborate, "We'll be seeing you in court in approximately--"

And then Archer goes on, "Because I totally understand if you're super into caning, there was this one time with two identical twin Swedish princesses that convinced me, but it does seem kind of impractical to just carry it around everywhere."

Matt makes himself take a deep breath and meditate for a second, because it wouldn't be professional to break a man's jaw while still on the job, but then the woman and Foggy are both shouting at Archer at the same time.

"You can't just be a dick to blind people for no fucking reason, Archer--"

"This is extremely inappropriate--"

Matt says, as calmly as he can, "I think we're done here," and stands up to leave. Foggy thankfully stands up with him, and then the woman turns and does something with her face, saying, "What are you doing here, actually? Are you like a legal assistant, or--?"

" _Oh my god are you the prince of France?"_

Matt actually loses the ability to say anything other than a flat, emotionless "What."

"Yeah, Cheryl--or Carol, I don't know--what?" Archer asks.

"I looked it up and you're  _totally_ the lost prince of France. Handsome, charming, and faking being blind."

Matt has to force himself not to clench his fists, and then he starts to walk out with Foggy past her. 

As they go, his cane taps her heel, and she  _noticeably shudders_ and whispers, " _Choke me. Hit me again."_

Matt starts to half-sprint out.

* * *

 

It's a dark night, and Matt's out patrolling. He's just halfway beating up a group of would-be gang-rapists when he notices a familiar voice at the edge of the alley, one hand under a skirt, furiously whispering, "Oh god, call them useless whores!  _Useless whores!"_

Matt freezes at that, which gives one of them the opening to sock him hard in the jaw, and Cheryl shivers and her hand speeds up as he regains his focus and beats them into a mass of pulp and bone. 

He remembers she's there as she moans, "Oh god, please hit me too! Make me  _bleed!_ "

Matt's never sprinted out and up an alleyway quite so fast before.

* * *

 

He actually  _does_ hit her later. It's been a week and he finds out that a 'deeply insane and frankly terrifyingly arousing' woman has been paying homeless people to stage gladiator-style fights that have killed some of them. 

He finds Cheryl, as he dreaded, in the same alleyway where she jerked off watching him beat up men in a leather suit.

She's gasping as he shoves her against the wall, snarling. "Oh  _fuck_ yes  _ravish_ me!"

Matt doesn't respond to that. Instead, he says, low and furious and scared, "What is  _wrong_ with you? People have  _died._ People who never did anything."

"Well,  _besides_ being gross and homeless and probably dhampirs, I suppose not."

Matt holds her up against the wall, his forearm against her throat, and says, trying to channel the nuns, "Don't  _ever_ let me catch you doing that again."

Cheryl says, choking and writhing happily, "And what'll you do to me if I agree to not stage any more bum fights?"

Matt can't actually think of anything for a moment, and then says, tentatively, "I'll slap you and call you a...useless whore?"

Cheryl whimpers at that--not a fear-whimper, Matt can tell the difference, a sex-whimper--and says, low and breathy, " _Yesssss."_

Matt lets her down, braces himself, and backhands her hard across her face, and then yanks her hair back and says, in his best cold voice, "You useless  _fucking_ whore."

Cheryl lets out a pornographic little shriek that haunts Matt as he gets the entire fuck out of there.

* * *

 

That same night, across town, James Wesley rubs his temple as he listens to his contact fight with his holographic girlfriend over the differences between Chinese and Japanese culture.

 _Krieger_ , he thinks to himself irritably,  _is even worse than Nobu._ _  
_


End file.
